I Can't Believe It's Not Butters!
by Ben Barrett
Summary: Butters stands up to Cartman, which causes the fat kid to fall for him. Meanwhile, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny finally accept Butters as one of their own. BxC. Mild slash. Intentionally OOC due to characters gradually changing.
1. No Longer A Melvin

**A Note From Ben: Aah, here we are again. This particular story came to be because someone I know asked me to write them a story about Butters. Well, ask and you shall receive. I hope you all enjoy this one as much as you've enjoyed the others.  
**

* * *

**I Can't Believe It's Not Butters!**  
By Ben Barrett

**Chapter One – No Longer A Melvin**

"H-hey, Stan," Butters said, approaching his sometime friend in the hallway at school.

"Hey, Butters," Stan replied, smiling at the other boy.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked. "It's kinda important."

Stan shrugged and followed Butters outside and toward an isolated corner of the playground. There, he stopped and looked at the blonde expectantly.

"Well?" he asked.

Butters fidgeted a bit and looked down at his feet. Stan knew the boy suffered from a confidence problem and thus extended a little more patience to him than he normally would. For as long as he had known him, Butters had been a jittery, insecure, naïve little chump. He'd fall for or _do _just about anything, especially if he thought it would gain him acceptance. In other words, Butters was a Melvin.

"S-Stan, I need you to teach me to be confident," the boy finally said.

"What?" Stan replied in shock. This was the _last _thing he was expecting. "What makes you think I can teach you something like that, and why?"

"W-well, cause of Eric Cartman, that's why," Butters muttered angrily. "He's an asshole and, by golly, I'm t-tired of him takin' advantage of me."

Stan nodded at these words, understanding the feelings of his friend completely. How many times had that fat fuck made life miserable for those he called his friends? He recalled one incident in particular in which Cartman had the chance to save Kyle's life by donating a kidney and refused to do it. Stan actually had to _trick _him into doing it.

"The thing about Cartman is," Stan said, "he's got a big mouth and an even bigger ass, but's he's just a big pussy. Any time Kyle hits him even a little bit, he goes crying to his mommy like a little baby."

"R-really?" Butters exclaimed, his eyes brightening. "So I ain't gotta do what he says or nothin'? I can just hit him?"

"If you have to, I guess. Just remember one thing, Butters: people can only walk all over you if you let them."

* * *

Two days later, Butters was standing in the hallway by his locker when Cartman walked up. There was an evil gleam in his eyes that Butters recognized right away, and it never meant good news.

_People can only walk all over me if I let 'em, _he thinks. _Won't let him step on _me _no more!_

"Butters, I need your help with something," Cartman said.

"What's that, Eric?"

Cartman smiled wickedly, not noticing the scowl on the face of the other boy at all.

"I need your help getting back at the Jew. All you have to do is grab him by his ugly ass Jew-fro in front of everybody and kiss him right on the mouth."

Butters was shocked. Of all the things to ask of him, what made the fat bastard think he'd go along with this under _any _circumstances? It was outrageous, boy howdy.

"No."

"Great, Butters, now I…"

Cartman stopped and gave him an impatient and calculating glare. Had he heard right? Had the little twat actually told him _no_?

"I don't think I heard you right…"

"NO!!!"

Butters gave Cartman a glare that could have melted steel, which caused the fat kid to back up a foot in surprise. This felt great! Butters was actually standing up for himself and it was working! Never again would anyone walk over him, by gosh. If they tried, he'd just give them the old one-two-buckle-my-shoe.

Cartman regained his composure and stepped closer to the other boy, getting right up in his face. Close enough for Butters to be able to smell the Cheesy Poofs on his breath, and close enough to be intimidating. At least, he thought it was; normally, this kind of behavior would have made little Butters Stotch quiver, but today it only seemed to be making him more confident.

"Listen to me, you little Melvin…" he hissed

"S-so help me God, Eric," Butters snarled, glaring at Cartman menacingly, "if you don't get out of my face, I'll…I'll…"

Eric actually laughed at this. Was Butters _threatening _him? Oh, this had potential to get really interesting. If he played his cards right, he could humble this little fucker and make him more submissive than ever at the end. He would _not _be treated this way by lower forms of life. Someone had been talking to his spineless Melvin, and when he got his hands on _that _particular piece of shit….

"I said get _out _of my face!" Butters barked, bringing Cartman out of his own evil musings.

"Kick his ass, Butters!" he hears Stan shout.

_So it was _him,Cartman thinks bitterly.

He cast his eyes toward the sound of the voice and saw that a large crowd had formed around them. They were honestly expecting a fight, which was a laughable thing. He was about to turn and tell them to piss off when he felt Butters grab the collar of his shirt.

"Get your hands off the…" Cartman snarls, but is cut off by something colliding with his nose. The next second later, he was lying on the ground with blood running down his face, crying like a big baby.

* * *

"You did it, Butters!" Stan told his friend happily as he gave him a congratulatory pat on the back. "You showed that asslicker who's boss!"

"Yeah, good job, dude," Kyle agreed, walking on his other side.

"Woo hoo!" Kenny cried. "It's about time somebody did!"

"Th-thanks, fellas," Butters replied happily.

"Butters," Stan said, stopping him and putting an arm over his shoulders. "I am pleased to say that from this moment on, you are no longer a Melvin."

"Yeah," Kyle added, "you can take Cartman's place as one of us. We hate him, anyway._  
_

* * *

_Butters can't do this to me,_ Cartman thought angrily, lying in bed that night. _That son of a bitch! Who does he think he is? Who does _Stan _think he is messing with my subordinates?_

He glared at the ceiling, but there was an evil gleam in his eyes that spoke of the evil plans he was devising in his chubby little head. Oh, they were all going to pay. First, he was going to teach the Melvin a thing or two about insubordination, then he was going to go after fucking Stan for his meddling, then the Jew just because Cartman hated him.

_I bet Kenny's even in this,_ he thought to himself. _My BFF, in cohorts with those back-stabbing sons of bitches! Well, he'll get his, too._


	2. Toy Blocks And Cell Blocks

**A Note From Ben: Sorry for the delay on this one. I've been kinda busy lately. On top of that, I've been planning other stories. If all of that wasn't enough, every time I'd try to write this chapter, I'd find myself stuck. Normally, the story plays itself out like a movie in my head and I just write down what I see, but this one was stubborn, like the film was broken or something. Anyway, here it is, mostly from Cartman's perspective. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Two – Toy Blocks and Cell Blocks**

Cartman had never known rejection like this, and it was pissing him off seriouslah. Butters had refused to heel and obey his orders on numerous occasions, busting him in the face each time he tried. Now, to add insult to injury, his friends had taken the little blonde on as their new best friend. He had, in other words, been replaced by the biggest loser in school.

_"You had it coming to you, Cartman," Kenny told him when he cornered him by his locker. "You've always treated your friends like shit and we finally got sick of it."_

_"But Kenny," Cartman responded, "I thought you and I….we're best friends forever…"_

_Kenny gave him a look of pity before reaching into the pocket of his parka and pulling out a chain. Cartman knew without seeing the pendant on the end that it was his friend's half of their Best Friends Forever necklaces._

_"Here," Kenny said, handing over the keepsake. "I don't think I should keep this anymore."_

_And with that, Kenny walked away, leaving Cartman standing there in shock._

Cartman pulled himself out of his own thoughts when he reached the bus stop and saw his old friends there with _Butters_. They were all laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. When he walked up, they gave no indication that they saw him or that they even cared he was there.

"Hey, Kyle," Cartman said.

"So you guys are definitely coming to stay over at my place this weekend, right?" Kyle asked, brushing him off entirely.

"Hey, Stan."

"Totally dude," Stan said, following Kyle's lead and pretending like he didn't hear.

"Hey, Butters."

"It'll be great!" Butters exclaimed. "I can bring over some movies if ya want."

"GOD DAMN IT!" he screamed.

He stormed away, feeling as though someone had stepped on his chest. He wasn't one to get emotional over things, but these guys were his friends. They had always done everything as a group, and that included ripping on the little Melvin that they had replaced him with. Sure, he had always made it a point to tell them all how much he hated them, and had even gone out of his way to make Kyle's life miserable, but weren't guys supposed to do that to each other?

The rain started pouring down hard, soaking him to the skin within a minute, but he didn't notice. He was too far into his own thoughts to notice his own discomfort or to think that he'd probably catch pneumonia out in this horrible weather.

_How could they do this to me? _he thought. _They _can't _treat me this way. I'll make them eat their parents!_

No, that wasn't right, was it? All the plans for revenge, all the scheming; that's what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He thought back over all the times he had made fun of Kyle for being a Jew, ripped on Kenny for being poor, and tortured Butters for being….well, for being Butters.

"Butters!" he exclaimed suddenly, his usual wicked grin spreading across his face. "Yes, of course. All I have to do is ap…_apologize _to Butters and be _his _friend and those guys will forgive me for sure!"

It was so perfect, he was surprised that he hadn't thought of it before.

* * *

Butters was in his room with Kenny, playing with his blocks, of all things. Butters had never known Kenny to be interested in toys like his before, especially since a lot of kids their age considered blocks to be for babies. He looked over at his friend and noticed he'd been spelling words like "TITTIES" and "MUFF"; he suddenly understood entirely. 

"Gee, Kenny," Butters said, "you sure can get creative with toys."

He remembered yesterday, when he and the others had been messing with his Play-Dough and Kenny had somehow managed to sculpt a naked woman, complete with enormous breasts. Kyle had just shook his head and muttered something about the hooded boy being a "sick freak".

"What can I say?" Kenny replied, bringing him back to the present. "It's a gift."

They heard a knock on the front door and leapt to their feet, forgetting the toys entirely. They had been expecting Kyle and Stan for quite some time and had been wondering where they were.

"Oh, boy," Butters cried, "they're finally here!"

They rushed downstairs to see Mrs. Stotch standing there, talking to Cartman. Butters stopped suddenly, causing Kenny to crash into him from behind. They both went tumbling down the stairs, but Kenny somehow got trapped under the other boy as they hit the bottom, causing him to land on his neck.

"Oh, my God!" Butters moaned, genuinely upset. "I….I've killed Kenny!"

He burst into tears and threw himself onto his friend's lifeless body.

"What's the big deal?" Cartman asked. "He'll be back tomorrow."

Butters looked up at him with a furious scowl, tears still running down his face. Either he hadn't caught on to the You-Killed-Kenny gag or he just didn't care. After all, he was a loving boy and cared deeply for his friends, especially since he had never had many.

"You bastard," he growled at the fat kid in the doorway.

"You're a little late," Cartman scoffed. "You're supposed to say that _right _after "I/You/We killed Kenny, not after somebody says something else."

"YOU BASTARD!" Butters screamed, launching himself at Eric with a look of hatred. "YOU BASTARD! YOU BASTARD!"

He landed on Cartman, causing them both to tumble backwards. Butters heard the other boy's head crack sickeningly against the sidewalk, but didn't stop to think about it. He began beating Cartman in the face again and again, busting both his nose and his lip as well as blackening both his eyes. He only stopped when Mr. Stotch rushed out of the house and pulled him off.

"No, Butters!" he cried, trying to restrain his thrashing son. "No!"

"Kenny's dead!" Butters wailed, still trying to wiggle out of his father's arms to finish the job. "Kenny's dead and this fat asshole doesn't care! He never thinks of anyone but himself!"

"It's over, son," Mr. Stotch said firmly into his ear. "It's _over_!"

* * *

Cartman was in Hell's Pass for three days due to excessive bruising and head trauma. When he woke up, he noticed right away that there was nobody by his bedside, which actually hurt more than his wounds did. Nobody cared whether he lived or died or whether he'd wake up retarded or something. 

"_Jesus_," he swore, "I really _have _been an asshole, haven't I?"

He was released shortly thereafter and give a prescription for painkillers. Instead of heading straight home, however, he went to the police station where Butters was being held.

"I want to see Stotch," he told Officer Barbrady.

"Sure thing," the officer replied. "You know, that was quite a beating he gave you. We're not sure whether we want to nail him for assault and battery or attempted murder."

"I don't want you to nail him for anything," Cartman said softly.

"What?" Barbrady asked, not sure he'd heard him right.

"I….I don't want to press charges. It was my fault."

They reached the cell in which Butters was being held and Cartman walked up to the bars alone. The Stotch boy was laying there, staring up at the ceiling, and didn't notice when they approached. Apparently, he was too lost in his own thoughts for much of _anything _to get his attention.

"Butters," Cartman said, causing him to jump in surprise and finally look over.

"What the heck do _you_ want?" Butters asked bitterly.

Cartman braced himself for what he was about to do. He wasn't one who normally apologized, but this whole thing had taken it's toll on him. Maybe it was time for him to change. Maybe he could start being a little nicer from now on. Well, he knew that he couldn't be _completely _nice all the time, at least not at first, but he'd try and improve bit by bit, starting now.

"Butters," Cartman said again, "I…want you to know….that….I'm….s-sorry."

The other boy said nothing, but continued staring coldly at him through the bars.

"This is all my fault," Eric said, taking a deep breath. "I guess waking up in the hospital and seeing that there was nobody there, that…nobody cared if I was dead or not…it made me realize something."

"And what's that?"

"When Kenny died, you cried over his body. You were really upset over it. If something like that happened to me…I mean, if I were to die or whatever…nobody would shed a tear. Nobody would even notice."

Butters looked down at his feet. For the first time, he actually felt sorry for him. Everyone had always pitied _him _because they thought he was weak and gullible, and he supposed that yes, he probably was once. Still, he'd had a decent upbringing by two moral people who had tried to instill certain values into him. This boy, on the other hand, had been raised by a crack-whore hermaphrodite who coddled him, gave in to his every demand, and never tried to give him any kind of principles at all. It wasn't really his fault that he was like this.

"I would," Butters said softly.

Barbrady opened the cell and allowed the Stotch boy to come out.

"What did you say?" Cartman asked, shocked.

"I'd care if something happened to you."

Cartman was too stunned to say anything else. Wasn't this the boy he'd tortured and taken advantage of? He remembered putting him in a bomb shelter and telling him society had fallen. He thought back on the whole "bi-curious" incident, in which one of his pranks had backfired and gotten Butters put in a Christian anti-gay camp.

_This has to be a trick, _he thought to himself as they turned to walk out. _It has to be….right?_

"Why, Butters?"

"Well, shucks, you apologized, right?" Butters told him in his old cheerful voice. "You ain't ever apologized before. Besides, we've been friends almost as long as Stan and Kyle. Guess that means we shouldn't hold grudges or nothin'."

Cartman had never looked at it that way, but Butters was right. They had even been together in that whole Trent Boyett incident back in pre-school in which, in an attempt to be real firemen, they had started a fire and accidentally burned their teacher beyond all recognition.

"Sure, Butters," he replied with a smile as they emerged onto the street. "Mind if I walk home with you?"

"Shucks no, Eric!" the other boy exclaimed. "That'd be real nice of ya!"

He didn't know why he offered, or what was coming over him. He had no idea _why _he suddenly felt the need to change. After all, it had never mattered to him before that everybody hated him. Once, he would have considered it an honor, for everyone had hated Hitler as well. Three months ago, if he had found himself in the hospital with no one there, he would have just taken it as a reason to be extra cruel to them.

_What the hell is happening to me? _he asked himself.

* * *

**Chapter Three will come a lot sooner than this one did. Stay tuned, y'all!**


	3. Caught In The Rain

**Chapter Three – Caught In The Rain**

Butters and Kyle stood at the bus stop together, discussing the ramifications of being friends with Eric Cartman. Kyle knew from experience that having anything at all to do with the fat ass only led to trouble of the worst kind.

"Dude," he said, "as your friend, I have to say that I think this is a really bad idea."

"Aww, shucks, Kyle," Butters replied, "don't worry about it. Eric's just tryin' to turn over a new leaf is all."

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. They had spent the last ten minutes talking about this, and Butters still wasn't getting it.

"There's only one kind of leaf on Cartman's tree," Kyle said bitterly, "and it's the evil, selfish, manipulative kind. He pulled this crap on me, remember? He pretended to be nice so I'd invite him to my birthday at Casa Bonita. Then, he pretended to change because we were all ignoring him and the stupid asshole thought he was dead…."

"Yeah, but…"

"Have you forgotten when he acted like my friend so I'd go out on Stark's Pond with him, where he tried to _kill _me?" Kyle demanded.

Butters looked down at the ground. Kyle sure made a good point; Cartman _had _done this kind of thing before. Still, he couldn't help but feel that this time it was different. Maybe it was Cartman's words to him about feeling as though no one cared for him. Maybe it was the fact that they had walked home together every day for the last week and Butters hadn't been insulted or asked to do his bidding even once.

Or maybe it was because they almost kissed…_  
_

* * *

_Butters and Cartman were walking home together, talking about Terrance and Phillip, when the rain started coming down in sheets. They covered their heads with their arms and ran toward the shelter of Butters' house as fast as Cartman's body size would allow._

_"I fucking hate rain!" Cartman screamed. "I hate it!"_

_By the time they got indoors, they were soaked to the skin, but laughing their asses off at the sight of each other._

_"Dude," Cartman said, "you look like a drowned rat."_

_"O-oh yeah?" Butters retorted with a smile. "Well _you _look like a…a _Jew!_"_

_"Ay!"_

_Butters knew the comeback was lame and made no sense, but he also knew that his friend's loathing for Jews was only equaled by his hatred for hippies; therefore he tried to use it to his advantage when he could. Besides, he had always been a friendly and gentle boy, so ripping on other guys was something new to him. Sure, he occasionally threw around words like "peckerface", especially when he met someone he didn't like, but he wasn't too sure about how to insult someone he considered a friend._

_"I…I'd better go change," Butters said, heading up the stairs, "if I drip too much on the rug, why, my dad'll go crazy, he will."_

_"I'd better go home, then," Cartman said, "I don't want to get you in trouble."_

_Didn't want to get him in trouble? That's all Cartman used to do to him, even when he wasn't really trying. It still amazed Butter sometimes how much his friend had changed since he'd gotten the shit beat out of him. He seemed like…a completely different person._

_"Nah, Eric," he said with a smile, "I bet there's a towel or somethin' up here you can dry off with. Besides, you promised you'd play Gamesphere with me today."_

_Cartman smiled and followed him up the stairs. When they got to the second floor, Butters got a fluffy blue towel out of the linen closet and handed it to him. Their hands brushed slightly as Cartman reached for it, causing them both to stop suddenly. There was something in that touch, Butters thought, that was different. It was gentle, almost loving in it's way, and he liked it._

_"Heh, sorry," Cartman said, pulling away with a slight blush._

_Butters said nothing. He just stared at his hand as if he had never seen it before. He shook this off after a second, not wanting the situation to get awkward, and beckoned for his friend to follow. They walked to his room and closed the door softly behind them._

_"I'll just be a minute," Butters said, pulling off his shirt. "Boy, my clothes sure are wet."_

_He proceeded to strip off the rest of his clothes and make his way across the room as Cartman dried himself off. By the time he reached his dresser, he was completely naked, though he found nothing wrong with this._

_"My God," he heard Cartman say._

_He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Cartman look away, his face as red as a beet. He didn't know why the other boy seemed so embarrassed; after all, they had seen each other nude before. Heck, Cartman had even gone in front of the whole town with nothing on that time they were all pretending to be ninjas. Still, he didn't want to push the issue; maybe his friend had just become a little more bashful._

_Butters pulled on some dry underwear and pants, followed by a clean shirt, then walked over and sat on his bed. He motioned for Cartman to join him, which he did, although reluctantly._

_"Is there somethin' wrong, Eric?" Butters asked._

_"No, Butters," came the reply, "I was just thinking…"_

_"'Bout what?"_

_"Well…it's just that…since my friends all left me, I don't have a best friend anymore. Kenny….used to be….my best friend."_

_Butters watched as his friend reached into his pocket and pulled out two pendants. Each one was half of the phrase "Best Friends Forever"._

_"When they got mad at me, Kenny gave this back," he explained. "Kenny's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. But now…he's….well, I guess what I'm trying to say is…I guess, you're…"_

_He seemed to be struggling for the words, but Butters knew what he meant, and it meant the world to him. He immediately reached over and wrapped his arms around Cartman, giving him the biggest hug he could muster._

_"Ack! Butters!" he heard him protest, though he could tell by the sound of his voice that he didn't mind as much as he pretended to. After a second, Butters felt him softly return it, though insecurely._

_They pulled apart a few seconds later, but Cartman reached over again to clasp the pendant around Butters' neck. For a brief second, their faces were mere inches apart as he leaned in to try and get a better grip on what he was doing. Their eyes met suddenly, and Butters was shocked to find a warmth and vulnerability there that he'd never seen before._

_"You're my best friend, too, Eric," Butters said with a smile._

_Their faces were inching together as the emotion between them built. Butters could almost feel it radiating in the room like heat. He knew if he didn't stop it, in another second or two they'd be kissing, but for some reason he didn't seem to mind._

I'm about to kiss Eric Cartman, _he thought to himself, _and I _want _to. Hamburgers, maybe I really _am _bi-curious!

_Right before their lips made contact, Cartman's eyes went wild and he backed up. The warmth in his eyes was gone now, replaced by fear._

_"My God!" he cried. "What the hell? What are we doing, _Butters_?"_

_"I don't know!" Butters wailed in panic. "Was it wrong?"_

_"Of course it was wrong, god _damn _it! We almost _kissed, _Butters! Do you have any idea what that means?"_

_He turned and walked to the door, but before he slammed it on his way out, he turned and said one last thing._

_"This never happened!"_

* * *

Cartman was pacing in his room, extremely frustrated at the whole incident. What the hell had Butters done to him? It was one thing to influence him to change and maybe be a little bit nicer, but kissing is where he drew the line!

_This is a Jew-trick! _He thought angrily to himself. _Yeah, that's it. The Jew was hiding somewhere in the room, ready to snap a picture the minute our lips touched. Filthy fucking Jew-rat!_

Deep down inside, he knew this wasn't true. Sure, it would be easy to blame Kyle and claim he was manipulated, but he knew that he had only ended up in that situation because….

"Because I wanted to be," he admitted bitterly. "Oh, God, what have I become?"

Never, as far back as he could remember, had he ever missed an opportunity to blame Kyle for something. If there was a chance it could make trouble for his Jewish semi-friend, he jumped at the opportunity with almost sadistic glee. Now, he was willingly accepting responsibility for almost lip-locking with Butters.

_God, I could use some Cheesy Poofs, _he thought.

* * *

_Cartman ran through the rain with Butters, heading toward the safety of the Stotch household. He fucking hated rain, and he expressed this opinion loudly. He _really _hated the fucking rain when he was caught in the middle of a downpour a good block or so from shelter, and he had a stitch in his side from trying to run._

_He looked over at Butters and saw him laughing like a maniac, as though getting soaked was the greatest thing in the world. Jesus, was there nothing that got this guy down? He was almost _always _happy, even when there wasn't a reason to be, even when it was obnoxious. Today, however, Cartman didn't find it obnoxious at all; he actually found it kind of comforting. Seeing his friend still laughing even though he was soaked to the marrow made him stop thinking about how awful the situation was, and he actually started laughing himself._

I'm losing my mind, _he thought, _but I'm….having fun.

_When they got through Butters' front door and out of the weather, they caught sight of each other and started laughing harder._

_"Dude, you look like a drowned rat," he said._

_"O-oh yeah?" Butters shot back, "Well _you _look like a…a _Jew!_"_

_"Ay!"_

_Cartman felt his mood drop ever so slightly, as though he wanted to get mad, but couldn't. His friend had _dared _to call him a Jew, one of the two types of people he loathed more than all others. Still, Butters was _trying _to be a normal guy and rip on his friends, so he had to give him a little credit, even if it was the lamest thing he'd ever heard._

_"I…I'd better go change," Butters told him, "if I drip too much on the rug, why, my dad'll go crazy, he will."_

_Cartman was surprised to find he felt sad about this. He _wanted _to spend more time with Butters, but he knew that he couldn't stay here as wet as he was after hearing about Mr. Stotch's dislike of wet carpet; he was just as soaked as Butters was. He expressed this, and was happy to see his friend shake his head._

_"Nah, Eric," Butters said, "I bet there's a towel or somethin' up here you can dry off with. Besides, you promised you'd play Gamesphere with me today."_

_He _had _promised, though he hadn't actually expected the other boy to hold him to it. Hell, he hadn't expected much of anything out of his friendship with Butters. Sometimes he wondered just how much the Stotch boy actually liked him. Sure, they _seemed _to be friends, but the same could have been said about Kyle a month ago, and they had pretty much always hated each other._

_Cartman followed Butters up the stairs, thinking about all he had put the guy through. He really wasn't so bad, certainly not bad enough to deserve some of the stuff that had been done to him. He remembered with what he could assume was remorse the cruel pranks; the cat shit on the face, the liposuction, the AWESOM-O incident, the bomb shelter fiasco._

No wonder everybody hates me, _he thought._

_They reached the linen closet in the upstairs hallway and Butters pulled out a towel. He extended his hand for Cartman to take it, and their hands briefly touched. Cartman stopped and looked down. He'd never felt hands as soft as Butters' hands, nor had he ever felt a surge of emotion as powerful as the one that coursed through his body when they made contact with each other._

Move your hand, stupid, _he screamed internally, giving himself a mental kick in the ass._

_He suddenly came back to his senses and pulled away. The whole thing had probably taken no more than a second or two, but in his mind it was like hours. At the very least, the moment had been awkward, and by the way Butters was staring at his hand, he had noticed something, too._

_"Heh, sorry," he apologized lamely._

_Butters didn't respond. He just stood there staring at his hand for a few more seconds before he shook his head and walked off toward his room, beckoning for Cartman to follow. When they got there, Cartman began to towel himself off furiously. He ran the fabric under his shirt, along his arms, and tried his hardest to rub the water out of his clothes._

_"I'll just be a minute," he heard Butters say as he began drying his hair. "Boy, my clothes sure are wet."_

_The towel was covering Cartman's face, so he never saw Butters strip off his clothes. He had no idea that his only friend was stripping down right in front of him. It was only when he pulled the towel away and cast it aside that he felt his jaw drop. He had seen Butters naked before, sure, but he had never found himself so breathless at the sight. For some reason, today he found the Stotch boy to be….beautiful._

_"My God," he said without thinking._

_Cartman saw Butters stop suddenly and he realized that his friend had heard his little slip of the tongue. He turned away, feeling his face redden._

Why the hell am I thinking this way? _he asked himself. _What the hell is going on? Since when am I a homo?

_When he saw Butters move toward the bed out of the corner of his eye, he looked back. His friend jumped up and sat on the bed and motioned for him to do the same. Cartman crossed the room slowly, his thoughts and emotions going in a thousand different directions. He knew for sure that this boy was now his best friend. Hell, he had to be; he was his _only _friend. That still didn't justify the strange feelings he was having for him, though; guys don't normally think of their best friends as "beautiful"._

"_Is there somethin' wrong, Eric?" Butters asked, apparently noticing his sudden change of mood._

_"No, Butters," Carman told him, "I was just thinking…"_

_"'Bout what?" his friend queried._

Yeah, like I'm really gonna tell him I'm having homo thoughts about him, _Eric thought. _How do you tell your best friend you're….wait…

"_Well…it's just that…since my friends all left me, I don't have a best friend anymore. Kenny….used to be….my best friend."_

_Cartman reached into his pocket and pulled out the pendants he had once shared with Kenny._

_"When they got mad at me, Kenny gave this back," he said,"Kenny's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. But now…he's….well, I guess what I'm trying to say is…I guess, you're…"_

_He was tripping over his own words now, trying to tell Butters something that was really quite simple. Butters seemed to pick up on this, however, and threw his arms around him. Cartman was caught completely off-guard._

"_Ack! Butters!" he cried in mock protest._

_He didn't know what to do. He didn't _mind _being hugged, but since he had spent his whole life treating people like dirt, he wasn't used to open shows of affection like this and thus wasn't sure how to respond. He decided in the end to put his arms lightly around Butters' back. It seemed to work, for when the Stotch boy finally released his grip, he was smiling._

_Figuring this would be as good a time as any, Cartman reached over to put the pendant around his friend's neck. He couldn't quite get the clasp to latch with his arms stretched out so far, so he leaned in closer, not realizing just how close his face was to Butters'._

_"You're my best friend, too, Eric," Cartman heard him say._

_He looked up suddenly, astounded at what he heard, and found himself staring into his friend's eyes._

* * *

Cartman couldn't bear to think of any more, because he knew what happened next. Not even a minute after getting a new BFF, he had ruined everything by almost kissing him, then screaming at him that it never happened. Butters would probably never speak to him again. Again, this wouldn't have bothered him before. Why the hell was it bothering him now?

_Because I changed, _he thought angrily, _I changed _too _much. And I learned to care about people.  
_

He suddenly felt nauseous. He leapt off his bed and ran down the hall towards the bathroom, kicking Fluffy out of the way in his haste. He got there just in time and spilled all the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He vomited till he didn't think he could vomit anymore, then he began to cry. He cried for himself, for he always did something to mess things up, even when he didn't want to; he cried for Butters, who had trusted him and had even called him "best friend"; and he cried for Kyle, because Kyle was a Jew and that in itself was a shameful thing.

* * *

**Sorry this one took so long, folks. I'll **_**try**_** not to let that happen again.**


	4. A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

**A Note From Ben: Well, your constant requests over the last few months that I start this story again have paid off. I will be dedicating a great chunk of time to this tale from now on. By the way, if you think that Butters is a little out of character in this one, it's only because he's angry through most of it. How easy is it to write an angry Butters??**

* * *

**Chapter Four - A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words**

**_My baby takes the morning train_**

_**he works from nine till five and then**_

_**He takes another home again **_

The music was loud so that Cartman could hear it over the roar of the shower. He loved to listen to his favorite songs while he bathed, and he also loved to sing along in his loud, screeching voice. It was for this very reason that it was nearly impossible for him to hear anything until he was done. When the door opened, he didn't hear it. He also didn't see, due to the shampoo in his eyes, someone walk through the bathroom. He only caught that something was amiss when Easton Sheena's voice suddenly went silent.

He immediately took a washcloth and wiped the soap out of his eyes.

"Butters!" he squealed, jumping backwards while simultaneously trying to wrap his nakedness in the shower curtain. The result was him tripping over his own feet, falling backwards into the tub, and bashing his head. The curtain became entangled with his body and he ended up flailing around, doing everything he could to free himself.

Butters walked over to him. There was an anger in the boy's eyes that Cartman had only seen on one other occasion. He was hoping this time he wouldn't end up in the hospital.

"You son of a bitch," Butters said, glaring at him. "Tell me where the picture is!"

"Picture?" Cartman moaned. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Eric," came the reply. "Tell me where it is!"

* * *

_**One hour earlier...**_

A knock on the door caught Kenny off-guard. He didn't normally get visitors after 8:00 at night. His friends usually didn't ask to stay over, due to him being poor and all, and people didn't wander into his part of town after the sun went down. Therefore, when someone rapped on his front door at such an hour, his first thought was that it was either a cop or someone who was just looking for trouble. Grabbing a bat from under the couch, he moved to the door and looked out through the hole drilled in the wood that was his father's idea of a peephole.

Butters was standing there on the front stoop, looking extremely sad.

_What the hell?_

"What are you doing here at this time of night?" he asked, throwing the door open and pulling the boy inside. "Are you trying to get hurt or something?"

"I'm sorry," Butters said in his typical fashion, scuffing his foot against the rug.

He beckoned for the Stotch boy to follow and then headed across the house toward his bedroom. When they got there, Kenny locked the door and then motioned for Butters to have a seat.

"Okay, Butters," he said, "tell me what's wrong."

"It...it's Eric," Butters replied.

"Oh, God, what has he done to you now? He didn't put cat shit on your face again, did he?"

"No."

"He didn't piss on you again?"

"No."

"He didn't take any more pictures of your penis in his mouth?"

The look on Butters' face told Kenny that this last question was a mistake. Nobody had ever mentioned the photo to him, or that it was the reason he had been sent to a Christian anti-gay camp. They had tried to spare him the humiliation and had done their best to silence it.

"He _what_?" Butters demanded, suddenly sounding angry. "When did he do _that_?"

"It was a long time ago, Butters," Kenny replied. "It won't do any good to go rooting around in things that should just be left alone."

"Tell me, Kenny," Butters ordered, rather uncharacteristically. "Tell me what happened _right now_."

Reluctantly, Kenny told Butters the entire story. He listened intently, never interrupting or asking any questions. He just sat quietly as he heard about everything from Cartman's photo album to the slideshow that had taken place the following Monday. Kenny expected him to at least get upset when he told him that Cartman had intended to force him into fellatio, which was what had gotten him in such trouble; Butters never made a sound.

When he was finished, Butters simply nodded and walked to the window, where he stood for several minutes staring out into the darkness.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Kenny asked.

"I dunno."

Kenny felt like an ass. He had only been trying to help. He hadn't meant to make Butters angry at Cartman. God knows, they seemed to be really good for each other. Butters had more confidence than anyone ever thought possible, and Cartman hadn't killed anyone or promoted mass genocide since getting out of the hospital. Everyone, with the exception of Kyle, encouraged and supported the friendship.

"Son of a bitch!" Butters suddenly screamed, snatching a broken lamp from a nearby table. With a thrust of his arm, the lamp went through the pane, which shattered as if it had been made of rice paper. "That son of a _fucking_ _bitch_!"

This made Kenny take a precautionary step backward. This wasn't like Butters at all, and he wasn't really sure what he was capable of at this point. Butters only swore when provoked to anger, and he _never_ said fuck. Never.

"Tell me where he hid the photograph, Kenny," Butters hissed, advancing on him and grabbing the front of his orange parka. "I know you know. _Tell me!_"

Kenny tried to pry his hands away, but they were latched onto his jacket like steel. He looked into the other boy's eyes and saw an intense rage there that he'd never seen before. It was actually quite intimidating.

_Oh, God, what the hell is happening around here?_ he thought._ When did _Butters_ become intimidating?_

He felt himself being hoisted into the air. Unfortunately for him, being lifted up by the collar has the same effect on a person as a hangman's noose. He was suddenly struggling to breathe, and the only sound he could make was a rasping gurgle. Still, Butters did not release him from the hold.

_I'm going to die_, he thought. _I'm going to die at the hands of Butters Stotch, and I was the one warning_ him_ to be careful._

This was the last coherent thought he had before his vision began to go dark and he felt himself flung at a nearby wall. He hit it with a crash and crumpled unconscious to the floor as Butters stormed out of the house.

* * *

Butters was towering over Cartman, who was still laying in the bathtub with his privates clearly visible despite his attempts to untangle himself and cover the area. He couldn't even free his arms to turn off the water, which had gotten ice cold and was making him numb. 

"Now," Butters said, "you might think it's funny to molest your friends and take pictures, but I sure don't."

"It's not like that," Cartman pleaded. "That whole situation was a misunderstanding, really."

"It wasn't a misunderstanding," Butters said. "I had to go to camp because _you_ made them think I'm gay."

"Butters," the fat kid said, "I'm sorry. That was a long time ago. I'm...sorry..."

"Save your apology, asshole," Butters snarled, hurling the BFF pendant at Cartman. "Tell me where the picture is so I can get it and get out of here."

Cartman finally managed to untangle himself from the shower curtain and lurched to his feet, grabbing a nearby towel on his way up. He motioned for Butters to follow him and strode off down the hallway. With his privacy restored, he seemed to regain a little more of his strut, but there was a sadness in his eyes that betrayed the confident act he was putting on. Butters could give a flying crap, as long as he got what he was after. This guy had stabbed him in the back for the last time.

In the safety of his bedroom, Cartman threw on some underpants and pajama bottoms and cast the towel aside. That accomplished, he moved to his desk and opened one of the bottom drawers. He pulled out a large photo album out from under some papers and handed it to Butters, who practically snatched it from his hand.

"Geez," Cartman said, "When did you grow a set?"

Butters ignored him and began to flip through the pages, disgusted by their contents from the start. The pictures that Cartman had taken were cruel, so cruel! The catshit mustache, the asscheeks against the face; who would do such things? Well, it wasn't happening to him again, boy howdy. He reached the last page and saw the picture that had become so infamous. He could see his own genitals in the photo, his penis stiff and wet with saliva; and Cartman was standing over him, smiling- _fucking smiling_- into the camera.

Cartman, meanwhile, was trying to disappear into the floor. He had actually come to like Butters as of late and was sorry that his cruel pranks had come back to bite him in the ass. Perhaps all that shit that hippies were always saying about karma was true; maybe you really do reap what you sow. 

_Yeah right, like I'm really gonna admit a bunch of hippies were right about something._

"I'm taking this," Butters said finally, after staring at the last picture for several minutes.

"What?" Cartman wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"I'm taking this," the other repeated. "It'll remind me not to trust you. I never wanna see you again, Eric, and anytime I start to forget why, all I'll have to do is look at this."

"I'm...sorry, Butters."

He got no verbal response. Instead, he watched as his last friend in the world walked out the door and out of his life forever.

* * *

**This story isn't over. Lots of things will be happening soon. Stay tuned!**


	5. Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

**A Note From Ben: This one isn't exactly what certain people were expecting. A very special guest was supposed to show up in this chapter, but because of the way the chapter played out, I had to push his appearance back to Chapter Six to keep things from running too long and getting too repetitious. Don't worry, though. This...special guest...has already RPed his lines, and WILL show up in the next chapter as a reward for giving the 100th review on Raisins Boy. Those of you who are particularly clever will be able to tell who it is simply by READING the reviews, not counting them. If you do figure it out, please don't ruin the surprise for everyone else.**

**Also, I'd like to apologize for promising to finish this chapter time and time again. Some people were promised this days ago, others were promised months ago. I'm sorry. I know I said I'd put this on a regular update schedule, and so help me I'm gonna try.**

* * *

**Chapter Five - Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**  
Cartman wouldn't go to school for over a week. He didn't want to see anyone, and he didn't want to be seen by anyone. He simply wanted to be left alone in his room, where he could mourn his loss in peace. Sure, this was a lot like Stan's behavior after Wendy dumped him, but he didn't care. After all, he had started to _like_ Butters. Hell, he had actually come close to giving his heart to the boy. Never mind that he had spent all of his life ripping on gays. He would have been willing to disregard that, because Butters stirred up something in him that he couldn't explain. He made him feel things he had never felt before, and... 

A knock on his door caused him to jump into the air in surprise. His mother normally didn't knock like that, and he had no friends who might come to visit him. His behavior in the past had alienated him completely. There was no one who gave a flying fuck about him. If he were to die in his bed, the only person who would even come to his funeral would be his mother. All that taken into consideration, who the hell was at his God damn door?

He got up slowly and walked over. He pulled the door open a crack and peeked cautiously out into the hallway. To his surprise, Kyle of all people was standing there, looking back at him with an unimpressed look on his face.

"Hey, Fatass," he said.

"Hey, Jew," Cartman replied, pulling the door open completely.

"Listen," Kyle explained, "can I come in and talk to you? I know we don't exactly see eye-to-eye on many things, but..."

"No."

Cartman didn't care about his explanations. He didn't really want to be around anyone. Besides, as Kyle himself said, they didn't see eye-to-eye on anything. Kyle didn't care for the way Cartman viewed things, and Cartman didn't care for Kyle's Jewlogic. What would the visit result in but the inevitable argument?

"Come on, Cartman," Kyle argued, "there's a lot of people worried about you."

"Like who?"

"Like…." Kyle began, looking down at his feet. "Like Kenny, and….and Stan...and...me."

It looked as though Kyle had forced himself to say that last word, but Cartman disregarded this. All things considered, it was understandable that the traitorous Jew would find it difficult to admit to being worried about him.

"Oh?" Cartman asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You're all worried about me? I thought you didn't like me anymore."

"Look," came the reply, "we've said that loads of times before. Can you honestly tell me how many times you've been thrown out of the group?"

This made Cartman grind his teeth in anger. The Jew was right; he'd been thrown from the group so many times in the past, he had lost count. Not that remembering such a thing made him feel much better about the situation. If anything, it only made him want to slam the door in Kyle's face.

"So, you're saying you want me back?" he asked.

"No," Kyle said. "We _don't_ want you back in the group, but you have to understand something. Just because we don't want you around us anymore doesn't mean that we don't get concerned when things go wrong. It's like you told me once, we've been through a lot together, and that alone may not make us friends, but it makes us _something_. We've been watching, and we don't like this unhealthy tailspin you've gone into. It's almost as though..."

Kyle stopped in mid-sentence and shook his head, as if the rest of what he was thinking was too unsavory to actually speak out loud. Cartman wasn't fazed by this, however, and motioned him into the room. Kyle entered without a sound, or without a glance at the other boy, and sat down in the desk chair. 

"Okay," he continued after collecting his thoughts. "What's going on?"

Cartman sat down on the bed and looked over at him, and Kyle could see the sorrow in his eyes. He'd never seen that look in Cartman's face before, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Kyle had never known him to ever be honestly remorseful about anything. Could it be that he had actually learned to care for Butters? Was it possible that this wasn't just another one of his schemes, as he had thought all along? No, that was ridiculous. The only time Cartman ever showed any kind of decency was when it was in his best interest to do so. He never learned anything, he never cared for other people. His philosophy in life was to look out for NUMBER ONE above all else, and to hell with everyone else.

_Still,_ Kyle thought, _I can't help but wonder. He almost looks...broken._

"Butters," was all that Cartman said in response. "I lost Butters."

He wasn't sure, but Kyle could have sworn he saw a tear appear in Cartman's eye when he said this. It could have been a trick of the light, or maybe just something he wanted to see there, because despite everything he knew to the contrary, Kyle really wanted to believe that there was some good in his former friend somewhere. That's one of the reasons he fell for Cartman's tricks and schemes so often. It wasn't that he was stupid enough to get burned that many times. He just honestly wanted to believe, each and every time, that this time it was different, that this time he was being real and was honestly showing what could pass for humanity.

"I know," Kyle replied. "It's all over the school."

"I...think I was really changing for him," Cartman said. "I really wanted to be a good person, someone that...that Butters could trust."

"Why does he mean so much to you?"

Cartman thought back on the events of the last few weeks. It had all started with Butters standing up to him and busting his nose. All his friends had abandoned him and finally accepted Butters as the fourth member of the group. This had resulted in him clinging desperately to Butters himself, who had become his last friend in the world. This in essence had caused him to grow closer to the boy that he'd ever been to another human being in his life, but was that really all there was to it? He didn't think so. He was sure there was something else, something that had rocked the very foundations of who he was. He just wasn't sure what it was, and until he was he couldn't answer Kyle's question with any degree of certainty.

"I...don't have an answer for you, Kahl," he said.

Kyle eyed him for a second, then nodded with a slight smile.

"That's what I was looking for, Cartman," he said.

"It is?"

"Yes," Kyle answered. "When you really care about someone, you can't explain why. If someone asks why you care, it's impossible to give a definite answer. All you know is that that person means more to you than you can say."

"Yeah," Cartman agreed, eying Kyle with a certain amount of respect and admiration. "You don't know what is about that person, but every time you think about them, it makes you feel happy inside."

"Exactly."

There was a long silence then, as if they were both waiting for the other to speak. In all honesty however, neither of them were waiting for anything. It was just odd for them to agree on anything, or to be able to speak so openly with each other. They'd been at war since the first time Cartman uttered the words "Stupid Jew" back in preschool. There were still a lot of hard feelings between them, and a lot of grudges that they were still holding. Still, maybe if Cartman could change for Butters, he could change for Kyle. Maybe there was a chance they could still be friends after all, regardless of how badly things had been in the past.

_Yeah right. I doubt the Jew and I will ever get along._

He regretted this thought the minute he looked up and saw Kyle sitting there, looking at him with a warm smile and no malice or hatred in his eyes at all. Kyle was here because he and the others were concerned. He never _had_ to show up here to help Cartman with his problems. They were, after all, _his problems_. Kyle could have blown it all off and gone to play Gamesphere with Stan, but he didn't. He was sitting there, prepared to do anything he could to help. That was humbling.

"What am I gonna do?" Cartman asked.

"Well," Kyle said, "you can talk to Butters and at least _ask_ for his forgiveness, though I'll warn you that he probably won't be too friendly about it at first. You'll have to actually show him somehow that you're sincere, and that you're willing to do just about anything to make amends."

"How do I do that?"

"By being as honest with him as you were with me," came the reply. "Stan, Kenny, and I will help out as much as we can, and we may be able to get him to at least hear you out, but in the end, you're gonna have to win him over."

"Okay," Cartman said, nodding his head sadly. This was going to be very difficult. "Kahl?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think he'll ever be my friend again?"

There was a pause as Kyle weighed his words carefully. How could he tell Cartman the honest truth without discouraging him or breaking him even more than he was? It didn't seem like it was possible. No matter how he phrased it, it was still the same answer, and Cartman was going to have to face the cold, hard reality of it eventually. It would be best to take care of it now.

"I'm afraid not," he said, looking away.

* * *

The next day Cartman showed up in class, ready and willing to do all he could to make things right. He knew it wouldn't be an easy process, but he was willing to at least try. After all, how could he claim to care about Butters if he wasn't willing to eat a little crow for his sake? Sometimes, we all have to do things we don't want to for those we love; it's just a part of life. For Cartman, however, it was a little bit different because he'd never really cared about anyone. No one had ever put him in this position before. Oh sure, Scott Tenorman had humbled him for a little while, and had even recorded him doing the "piggy dance", but he'd gotten his revenge in the end. This time, though, there would be no vengence. No parents made into chili meat, no "Nyahnyahnyahnyah nyah nyah", no getting the best out of anyone. That was a rather difficult concept for him to grasp. 

As the day wore on, he often found himself sneaking glances over at Butters when he thought he could get away with it. He wasn't sure why he was doing it, because he knew it couldn't possibly help anything. Either Butters would notice, or Mrs. Garrison would notice, and he'd been in deep shit. Still, he couldn't help it. His eyes just kept drifting to that side of the room, and he'd tell himself each time that he'd look just one last time, that it wouldn't hurt to do it once more. Each time he did, he felt his heart flutter and jump in his ribcage, and he'd find himself wanting to do it again. It was an awkward cycle that he didn't seem to have any control over.

"Eric," Mrs. Garrison finally said after about the thirtieth time, "Is there a problem?"

"No, Mrs. Garrison," he said.

"Then would you please stop staring at Butters and pay attention?"

The rest of the class laughed at this, and Cartman slid down in his seat in an effort to make himself invisible. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and he found himself wishing that he could just sink into the floor. He looked around at his classmates, who were all staring at him with sadistic glee, and that's when he caught one last glimpse of Butters. The boy was sitting in his seat, giving Cartman a look of intense hatred. It was obvious that he'd only made things worse by staring as much as he did, because surely the whole thing was as humiliating for Butters as it was for him. It was going to be harder than ever to make things right.

Mrs. Garrison went back to teaching about how Patrick Duffy's performance on _Dallas_ was so much better than it was on _Step By Step_. Cartman tuned this out and spent the rest of the class period thinking over his situation and the best way to fix it. He pondered it for over two hours, until the bell rang for lunch, but for the life of him couldn't come up with a single thing. Of course, he'd always been good at coming up with manipulative and cruel answers. Your parents pissed you off? No problem; we'll just smear shit all over the walls and teach them a lesson. Having problems with your best friend? Let's kill him. He could come up with stuff like that off the top of his head because he'd been doing it his whole life, and he was damn good at it. Now that he was faced with a problem that wouldn't go away by ruining someone's life, his mind was completely blank.

_I could set his mom on fire. No! That won't work, God damn it!_

As he made his way out into the hallway and toward the cafeteria, he saw Stan, Kyle, and Kenny walking farther ahead with Butters. Stan had an arm over Butters' shoulders, and he was all grins. Cartman thought it looked a little fake, even from a distance, and couldn't help but think that Butters probably saw right through it. Kyle said something, to which Stan agreed with a nod, and Butters cast a glance back over his shoulder. When he saw Cartman, his face hardened and he turned away. He began shaking his head furiously, as if whatever they were saying was absolutely unthinkable. He shrugged Stan's arm off and picked up his pace, passing right by the cafeteria and heading toward the playground.

"I thought you guys were my friends!" Cartman heard him shout as he threw the door open and stomped outside.

Cartman didn't have to be psychic to figure out what was going. They had tried to talk Butters into sitting down and talking things over, and Butters wasn't having anything to do with it. Cartman had expected this, and wasn't really all that surprised. After all, with the looks he'd been receiving all day, he wouldn't have been surprised if Butters pulled out a gun and shot him in the chest.

The three lingered in the hallway for another moment or two, then disappeared into the cafeteria. Cartman lingered behind, not wanting to get too close. He'd give them about ten minutes to get through the line and find a table, then he'd go in. It would be best if he kept his distance for now, until he was advised to do otherwise.

* * *

"Hey!" someone called out. Butters looked behind him to see Kyle, Stan, and Kenny rushing to catch up with him. In his haste to get out of the classroom before Eric could approach him, he hadn't taken into consideration that he still had three great friends who might want to join him. 

"Hey, guys," he replied.

"Butters," Stan said, throwing an arm over his shoulders and smiling. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Butters replied, rather insecurely. Stan was never this friendly and touchy-feely, even with Kyle. That he would be doing it now, with him, made him very suspicious. These guys were up to something, he just knew it.

"Well, good," Kyle said. "Got a minute to talk with us?"

"About what?"

"About an old friend," Kyle answered.

"You mean Cartman, I know you do," Butters replied coldly, "and the answer is no! I won't have anything to do with him."

"Butters come on," Kyle said gently. "Don't be like that. He's really changed, even we've noticed it."

"That's right," Stan said, nodding, "and Cartman doesn't change for anybody. He must really think the world of you."

Butters had a feeling that if his friends were selling the fat asshole so much, he probably wasn't far off. He looked back over his shoulder and sure enough, Eric was standing farther down the hallway, following them slowly. He was trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing, but he wasn't fooling anyone with that stupid act. He had watched him all through class, until he'd gotten in trouble for it and made a laughingstock of the both of them, and now he was trying to get on his good side by using his friends against him. Well, that wasn't going to work, either. He wanted nothing to do with Eric Cartman or anyone who associated themselves with him.

"No!" he shouted, throwing off Stan's arm and picking up his pace. "If you guys are on such good terms with that asshole, why don't you go have lunch with him?"

"Butters, don't be like that!" Kyle argued. "It's not..."

"I thought you guys were my friends!" he shouted as he stormed out of the school. If they had anything else to say, he didn't want to hear it.


	6. The Boy Nobody Knew

**A Note From Ben: Guest starring in this chapter is Phoenix II, author of stories such as _Aunque Mi Vida Me Cuesta_ and _Perchance To Dream_. He posted review number 100 on Raisins Boy, and as a reward asked to be written into this story as someone who gives advice to Butters. Well, here at last is me making good on my promise. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Six - The Boy Nobody Knew**

Butters sat alone in a corner of the playground, glaring angrily through the chain link fence at the quiet street beyond. He felt he'd been done a great injustice, and that he could no longer trust anyone. After all, everyone he'd ever dared to call a friend had stabbed him in the back in some way or another, right? First Cartman, who took those dreadful photographs, then Stan, Kyle, and Kenny. What basis did he have to put any trust in anyone? From this point on, he'd been looking out for himself and to hell with everyone else. He was tired of getting kicked around.

_But then, doesn't that make me as bad as them? Wouldn't I be stooping to their level by taking that attitude?_

He wasn't sure he cared anymore. He felt so hurt, and so very alone, and he wanted a few answers to his questions. He wanted to know why people felt it necessary to treat him like shit. So what if he was a little different? There were plenty of...different people in their school, including Timmy and Jimmy, but nobody gave them any trouble. Nor did they bother the ugly kids, who looked as though their facial features could scare the living shit out of Tim Burton. It was only Butters that they pissed on, and "Hitlered", and stabbed, and...

"Hey dude," someone said suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. He had been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed someone sneaking up on him. He looked over his shoulder and saw a boy with black hair and glasses staring thoughtfully at him. Butters figured, by that first glance, that they were probably about the same age, though he could have been wrong.

"Who...who are you?" Butters asked.

"I'm Brandon," the other replied. "Saw you run out, figured you needed some help, so I followed you."

Great. This guy wanted to play the Good Samaritan. Well, the last thing that Butters needed was another person butting into his personal life.

"Don't think you can help me," he said coldly, turning away, "unless you can keep Eric away from me."

To his dismay, the new boy didn't take the hint and walk off. Instead, he chose to plant himself on the ground beside Butters, apparently thinking that they were going to have a heart-to-heart chat. Well, Butters would show him. Butters wasn't going to play the fool for anyone anymore. He was going to be a new Butters Stotch, one that radiated self-confidence and could gain the respect of an entire group of people simply by walking into the room.

"Why do you need to keep Eric away from you?" Brandon asked.

Butters looked over at him for a second, debating whether he should answer or not. If he ignored this guy, he might just go away. After all, nobody liked to get snubbed. On the other hand, ignoring him might just make him more determined to get an answer, or it might make him angry and confrontational. Butters didn't know for sure, because he had no idea who the hell this person was.

"Cause he's a peckerface," he finally said.

"...And?"

Okay, short and simple answers wouldn't get rid of him. He was tempted to just get up and walk off, but he had a feeling that this Brandon character would just follow him wherever he went.

"Whadda ya mean 'and'?" Butters replied. "He treats me and everyone else like dirt. Guess you're new here so you don't know that. Eric's never been nice to anybody, unless there was somethin' in it for him."

"And what would be in it for him?" Brandon persisted.

_What is this, an interrogation?_

"Prolly to make me look like an idiot," Butters snapped, "or take more dirty pictures of me. What kind of an asshole molests their friends and takes photos of it?"

"What?!" the other exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He obviously hadn't been around long enough to find out about the photograph that had caused so much trouble. That was just great. Now, the guy was gonna want an explanation that Butters wasn't in the mood to give. Hell, if Butters never had to hear about it or explain it again, that would be just fine. It's not like it was something he was proud of.

"I guess I may as well tell you," Butters said with a sigh, "since everyone else knows and you're gonna find out sooner or later. He waited till I was sleepin' one night then put my penis in his mouth and took a picture."

There were several moments of awkward silence as Brandon sat there, grasping for some kind of response. Butters really didn't hold this against him. After all, what could you say to something so vulgar? Even a smart ass answer didn't seem to exist. It wasn't something that could just be laughed off, not even after twenty-two point three years.

"Uhm," Brandon stammered, "Man, that kid's fucked up."

"Tell me about it," Butters answered somberly.

"I can't," the other said with a smirk, "I'm new, remember?"

"Yeah, well, if you came over here to make me feel better, you might wanna rethink your strategy."

"Strategic rethinking commencing," Brandon said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Butters didn't even crack a smile.

* * *

On the other side of the playground, Kyle was watching this whole scene with a look of curiosity on his face. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and he couldn't read their lips since their backs were to him. All he could tell was that Butters was getting irritated, just by his body language. His fists were balled up at his sides, and he was frequently shooting the person he was talking to rather dirty looks. Whoever he was, Butters didn't seem to like him at all.

"Hey, Kyle," Stan said, walking up behind him. He was holding two unopened cans of Coke, one diet and one regular. He handed the Diet Coke to Kyle, who took it with a grateful nod, but did not take his attention from the far end of the playground. Stan, intrigued by what could be holding his friend's attention in such a way, looked over and was actually disappointed to just see Butters sitting there, talking with someone he'd never seen before. "Who the hell is that?" he asked.

"Dunno," Kyle replied. "I think it might be a new kid or something."

"Don't remember anyone new moving to town," Stan said thoughtfully. "South Park is so small, you'd think we would have known about it in advance."

Kyle simpy shrugged. It wasn't unheard of for new people to move into town unnoticed, really. After all, hadn't they been surprised by the Jeffersons? They hadn't even known that anyone had moved into the house until they walked by and saw Blanket. Yes, there turned out to be a reason for that in the end, but it still proved that it could be done. Just because South Park was ridiculously small didn't mean that a person couldn't get in without being seen.

_We'll just wait and see how this plays out. I've got a funny feeling about this._

* * *

"OK," Brandon continued, "how's this: what'd he say this afternoon?"

"He didn't say anything," Butters admitted, "but he got to my friends, and now they're trying to get involved in it. I know it'll only be a matter of time."

"Well, running away from him isn't going to stop him from bothering you about it. Hell, it'll probably make it worse."

"I wasn't runnin' away from him!" Butters said indignantly, as if the idea of Butters Stotch ever running away from anything was just absurd, an insult to his very character. "Leavin' was the only way I could get him to leave me alone. Why would I run from him, anyway?"

Brandon picked up a stick and starting drawing little patterns in the dirt. Butters thought it looked a little like the Hebrew he sometimes saw when he went over to Kyle's house. It looked something like this:

**לתרגם**

**הַזֹאת**

**טֶקסט**

"Uhm, I think you've got a more than good reason," he said as he doodled, "but the thing is, he WON'T leave you alone."

"I know," Butters replied, trying to make some kind of sense out of the symbols, knowing very well that he could do no such thing, "but if he keeps buggin' me I'll beat his ass again, I will."

"Maybe you should hear him out before you beat his ass?" Brandon suggested, looking up from his drawings with a raised eyebrow. "Save yourself a detention...?"

Butters sighed in frustration. This guy either wasn't getting it, or he was getting it and just didn't care. Butters was willing to bet anything that it was the latter, and that bugged him. Was he maybe the one who was wrong here? No, that was ridiculous. Of course Cartman was at fault! He was the one who had decided it would be a good idea to start that hideous photo album, after all. Butters never asked to be photographed, nor did he give his permission.

_I wouldn't have, either. Not for pictures like those._

Still, preacher always taught forgiveness no matter what. Did that include such abominations? His limited experience in Christianity told him that it probably did, and he didn't like that. Hell, he wasn't sure he could forgive after all of this. He expressed this to the new boy, who shook his head in frustration and gave his stick a fling before looking Butters straight in the eyes.

"No, I'm not talkin' about forgiveness!" he exclained. "I'm sayin' you need to hear the guy out."

Suddenly, it all clicked for Butters. Everything that Brandon had been saying suddenly made more sense than it had ten seconds before. He wouldn't have to forgive Eric if he didn't want to, and God knows he didn't. All that was being asked of him was to stop and listen to what he had to say. Then, his obligation as a decent human being would be done. Cartman would have received his chance to tell his side of the story, to plead his case, to offer up his paltry verbal offerings of penance. Butters could send him away and be done with it forever.

_At least, I hope so. Hopefully, Cartman really has changed._

"Well," Butters said, rising to his feet, "it sounds like you know him better than you let on, Brandon. Was I wrong about you bein' new here? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"Nah," the other replied with a good-natured wave of his hand, "I'm just good at reading people. And I believe in inevitability."

"Inevitability?"

"If he's bugging you so badly," Brandon explained, "and annoying you so much, there's no way that he wouldn't eventually get you to listen to him."

"I guess so," Butters replied, trying his hardest to brush the dirt off of his ass. "Guess I still got some thinkin' to do. Thanks for your help. Maybe I'll see you around sometime?"

"Maybe. Just don't look for me. I tend to keep to myself in the dark corners."

"Right, well, so long."

With that, Butters turned and walked away. He was relieved to find that the other boy was not following. This was not necessarily because Butters disliked him; quite the contrary. He thought that he had done a good job of calming him down, and his advice was really good, too. He figured the guy was at least highly intelligent if nothing else. The thing was, for some reason, he had this strange feeling that he and Brandon wound never meet again, that this was a one-time thing, a chance meeting.

This thought made him stop. Was this another one of those Alex Glick things? He thought it very well could be. He looked over his shoulder and saw Brandon watching him. When their eyes made contact, Brandon gave him a wave.

"And people say _I'm_ weird!" he muttered, turning away with a shake of his head and a smile.

"I heard that!" he heard Brandon scream back, but he didn't bother to turn again.

* * *

**Keep an eye out for the next chapter, which will be a big one for Butters and Cartman!**


	7. Confession

**A Note From Ben: Another one? Yes, it's true. ICBINB has indeed been update again! Sorry about keeping you waiting again. I lost internet access for a couple of months there and didn't have much time to work on anything.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven - Confession**

Cartman was standing in a large, open area. He couldn't really say what it was exactly, because it seemed to change every time he blinked. At first, it was a wheat field, then a valley of roses, and now it was the inside of some enormous sports arena. It was as if God Himself couldn't decide what he wanted this particular place to be, so he was just exploring various options, kind of like cosmic channel surfing. There were only three things that remained constant through all of it: two objects standing to either side of his peripheral vision, which he thought might be large black pillars, and a lone figure standing dead center between them, staring back at him.

"Butters."

He moved a little faster, determined to get to him before those pillars or posts or whatever they were fell over and crushed him. He had this crazy notion that they were the support beams holding the very sky in the air. He didn't know why, as everyone knew that the sky was held up by the hot air that came out of Kyle's mom. Still, that's what they seemed like to him. They were so tall they certainly COULD be selupporting it. If that was the case, though, then he needed to hurry. The breeze that was blowing was making them weave dangerously back and forth, and he didn't want Butters between them, or anywhere near this place, when that happened.

As he got closer, he noticed something he hadn't before, something very...strange. Butters was actually bound to these posts by two large chains, each one big enough to support a cruise ship anchor, yet he was not being pulled down by their weight. They seemed to be almost hovering in midair at perfect ninety degree angles, straight from Butters to the pillars.

"Butters," Cartman said again. "Butters, I'm sorry!"

Butters didn't reply. He kept right on staring straight ahead, as if the other boy wasn't there at all, as if he wasn't chained by his arms.

"Please, listen to me," Cartman pleaded. "I was...wrong."

At this, Butters actually blinked, as if seeing him for the first time. It was very brief, so brief, in fact, that anyone else might have missed it; Cartman didn't. He saw that something he'd said had done something, and he decided that the best thing to do was to continue along that line of thinking. If an admission of guilt would bring Butters out of his trance or whatever the hell it was, then by God he'd get down on his fucking knees and tell him how wrong he was if necessary.

"Please forgive me, Butters," he said. "Please. I was wrong to hurt you like that."

"Would you release me from these bonds?" Butters asked. Cartman didn't fail to notice how different he seemed. Butters had never behaved in such a confident manner. The boy he knew was constantly fidgeting, always seemed to be smiling, and had a bad habit of stuttering or shouting out nonsensical phrases

(oh hamburgers)

nobody cared for. To see him so steady with such an authoritative look in his eyes, coupled with the rather cryptic way he was talking, only added to the strained atmosphere.

"What does that mean?" Cartman asked.

"You must be willing to release those you care about," Butters answered. "If you are not willing to free me from these chains, you don't deserve me."

Cartman didn't understand what any of that meant. He'd never been the brightest boy when it came to things that didn't involve manipulation and blackmail, but he liked to think he had more intelligence than this. Why wasn't he getting something he knew should be very simple? Why the hell couldn't he wrap his mind around what Butters was trying to tell him?

"I--"

He was cut off from his reply when a strange creaking sound filled the area. It was an overpowering metal-on-metal grating sound that was so loud it filled the entire area and made him feel like his eardrums were going to blow right out of his head. He threw his hands over his ears to try and block some of it, but it did no good. The sound seemed loud enough to penetrate through anything, even his fingers, no matter how far he shoved them into his ear canal. It even felt like it got down into his bones and shook his very marrow.

"What the hell is that noise?!" he screamed at Butters.

"The end," the other replied.

As if waiting for him to say this, the two pillars he'd been chained to began to crumble down. Cartman wasted no time thinking about his own well-being for once. He immediately rushed over to his friend and tried to pull the chains off of his wrists; they wouldn't budge. No matter what he did, the shackles remained firmly latched.

"Butters!" Cartman cried. "Why is this happening?"

"You couldn't release me," Butters answered as the tower came down upon his young body, "so you'll lose me forever. All you had to do to save me was let me go." For the first time since Cartman had arrived there, Butters was actually allowing emotion to enter his voice, and the sorrow in his words was heartbreaking enough to bring tears to Cartman's eyes. Just the bricks smashed into them and crushed their bones and internal organs, Cartman reached out and grabbed the other boy in a tight embrace. His last words weren't many, but they were honest and heartfelt.

"I'm sorry, Butters. I love you."

* * *

Cartman woke up with a scream and looked around him. Shit, it was just a fucking dream. There were no towers, no constantly changing landscape, no Butters. There was only his bedroom, as it had been for the last few years. Clyde Frog was still right next to him in his bed (a spot most coveted by Polly Prissy Pants and Peter Panda), his Terrance and Phillip poster was still on the wall, and Fluffy was still in her basket in the corner.

_All you had to do to save me was let me go._

He heard the hurt in Butters' voice echo in his head again, and he banished it. He couldn't focus too much on that. He had to get control of himself. After all, it had only been a dream, right? It wasn't worth dwelling on. Butters was not lying dead underneath a pile of bricks in some field somewhere. He could probably call the Stotch residence right now and find that he was perfectly fine, though considering that the clock said it was 3:15 in the morning, he might get an earful from a very irate Mr. Stotch if he chose to do so.

_None of it meant anything._

He got up and padded down to the bathroom, where he relieved himself with a sigh. God, it felt like it had been years since he'd taken a piss, and the feeling was heavenly. He stood there, allowing the ecstasy to flow over his body and wipe out any lingering memories of that horrible nightmare.

_None of it meant anything._

He repeated that to himself over and over again as he stood there. He knew that if he told himself it was meaningless and tried not to dwell on it, eventually he wouldn't even remember having it. Dreams were stored in the area of the brain reserved for very short-term memories. They were never stored very long unless the person specifically retained them by dwelling on them unnecessarily. Well, he wouldn't be doing that, no sir. He'd find other things to occupy his time, like maybe a snack from the kitchen or some episodes of _Red Racer_ on YouTube.

_I fucking hate Red Racer. Reminds me of Craig._

He finished urinating and gave himself a couple shakes. That completed, he put away his equipment and made his way down to the kitchen, where he knew there was some leftover Powdered Donut Pancake Surprise in the refrigerator. Cold Powdered Donut Pancake Surprise was better than cold pizza, and there were very few things in the world better than cold pizza.

_Butters likes cold pizza, too._

He swore violently. God damn it he was tired of thinking about Butters. All that ever did was cause him to hurt inside. He was tired of crying, tired of hurting, tired of reliving all of his mistakes over and over again. He had seen the error of his ways and tried to make amends for his wrongdoings. Wasn't the guilt supposed to stop after so long, or was he doomed to forever relive past events that he had no desire to even REMEMBER?

Looking down at the Powdered Donut Pancake Surprise, he found that he was no longer interested in it. His appetite had completely dissolved, leaving him standing there staring blankly at the sugary treat with an empty feeling inside that had nothing to do with his stomach.

He closed the refrigerator, then walked over and sat down at the kitchen table. He propped his chin up with his hand and sat there thinking about what he was going to do. Butters wouldn't even look at him these days no matter what he said or who stepped in on his behalf. Logic told him to forget about it and just move on, but for some reason he could not. For some reason that he couldn't really explain, he had found himself completely devoted to Butters. He felt he would be willing to do anything for him, from carrying his schoolbooks to crawling naked through a pile of broken glass.

_I don't care, as long as it puts a smile on his face._

His thoughts went back to the day he and Butters had almost kissed. God, that had been intense. He remembered how close they had been. They had been less than an inch apart, so close that Cartman could feel the other boy's breath upon his face. He had a feeling that if he hadn't slipped into his old self then, if he hadn't listened to that voice in his head screaming "FAGFAGFAG", things might have turned out differently. Butters might never have gone to Kenny's house that night and found out about the photograph and they could be sitting together at that very moment, sharing cookies and milk and maybe even...holding hands.

He stood up suddenly, no longer able to sit still at the table. The frustration inside him was suddenly too much and he had to move, had to get out of the house. He'd never really been a claustrophobic person, but he was feeling very confined, like the walls were closing in on him. He went up to his room, changed from his pajamas into his usual outfit, and walked out into the frosty early morning air.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, his breath puffing out in front of him. "I'm really losing it."

Where was he going? He had no fucking idea, as long as it wasn't his house. Out here, he could walk and clear his head of all the stuff that was eating him up inside. Back there, there was nothing to keep his mind from returning to his problems over and over again. After all, what could he do at home at this hour but lay around or sit around with nothing to focus on but his own thoughts?

_The idle mind is the devil's playground. At least, that's what I've always heard._

A particularly cold burst of wind blew out of nowhere and threw itself against his young body, causing him to shiver violently and pull his red jacket closer. He rubbed his gloved hands together and blew threw them in an attempt to keep them warm, then continued on his way toward wherever his feet were taking him.

* * *

Cartman wasn't the only one out and about that night. As it just so happened, Butters had found himself unable to sleep as well. He'd woken from a strange dream in which he'd been chained to two pillars in a strange field. He'd been alone for awhile, just standing there watching the landscape change. After a couple of minutes, however, Eric had made his way into the valley.

_He told me he was wrong,_ Butters thought as he walked along. _He told me...he told me he loved me._

It was ridiculous, of course, to let this get him worked up. Dreams were dreams and nothing more. To put any stock in something that was said to him or in anything he said in response was completely pointless. Cartman never really said those things, and he never would. No matter how much Butters wanted to believe he'd changed, the sad fact of the matter was that deep down inside he knew it would never happen.

_Kyle was right. Cartman can't change._

_Maybe you should hear him out,_ another voice in his head suggested. It took Butters a minute to place who's voice it was, but once he recognized it there was no denying it. It was that strange Brandon kid who'd popped up, the kid nobody ever saw before or since. _Remember? You won't have peace until you do._

_Nobody asked you anyway,_ Butters shot back.

He trudged moodily along, trying his hardest to drown out anything else this voice might have to say by chanting "Loo loo loo, I've got some apples" over and over under his breath. He knew he should have gone to talk to Cartman days ago, after his talk with Brandon, but he hadn't. He had thought about doing it, had even gone so far as to start off toward Eric's house, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to go through with it.

Perhaps that's why he was being punished. Maybe that's why he was being forced to listen to this same lecture over and over, day in and day out.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he realized he'd made his way to the school. Why he'd come here of all places was beyond him. It was Saturday, after all, so even hanging out here for a few hours until class started was out of the question. There was no logical reason for him to have walked that far. Still, he supposed it was as good a place as any to sit and clear his head. At least there was a swingset here.

He made his way across the playground toward the swings, hands in his pockets and head down. He walked past the jungle gym, standing like some kind of child-devouring monster against the night, without giving it so much as a second glance. He and his friends knew the whole thing backwards and forwards, seeing as they had played on it for years, thus as they got older it began to lose it's appeal. It certainly didn't help that someone had carved "Stan & Kyle" into the wood and encircled it with a big heart.

_Those guys hate that,_ Butters thought with a smile. _They hate it so much. I don't think I've seen them on that jungle gym at all since..._

"Butters?" someone said, cutting him off in mid-thought. He looked up and saw Eric Cartman sitting there on the swings, looking at him in amazement.

"Oh," he said, the grin fading from his face. "Hi, Eric."

The two of them stood there awkwardly for a second, neither knowing exactly what to say. Butters scuffed the ground with the toe of his shoe while Cartman did his best to look everywhere but at the boy standing before him.

"I, uh..." Butters stuttered, "I should probably go."

"No, wait!" Cartman cried as he turned to walk off. "Please stay."

_Just hear him out,_ the Brandon-voice chimed up again.

_Okay, okay!_ Butters snapped back. _If only to shut you up for awhile!_

He turned back to Cartman and gestured for him to proceed.

"I know you don't believe me," Cartman said, "but I really am sorry."

Butters said nothing, so he took it as a sign to continue.

"What I did was...really stupid, and it eats me up inside every day. I feel awful, Butters. I feel awful because I hurt you, because I always treated you so bad."

Butters kept looking at him. He knew he should really be more open-minded and forgiving, but these words weren't having much of an effect on him. He just had a hard time believing any of it. For all he knew, this was just another trick, another way of getting into his good graces so he could humiliate him again.

"If I could take it back, I would," Cartman said. "You know, I had this dream that was totally crazy. You were chained to these big posts in this field, and..."

"OH MY GOD!" Butters cried out. "You had that dream too?"

"What?"

"I had that same dream!"

As Butters began to explain what he saw, Cartman's eyes got wider and wider. It was completely unreal that the two of them could have the same dream, and neither of them really knew what it meant. All they were sure of was that it was the strangest thing that had ever happened to either of them, which was really saying something.

"I think this happened for a reason," Cartman said. "I don't think it's a coincidence."

Cartman sat back down in the swing, and to his surprise Butters sat down in the one next to him, completely transfixed.

"Eric," Butters said, "I need to ask you something."

"What?"

"You said something there at the end of it," he said slowly. "Is that...how you really feel or was that just part of the dream?"

Cartman didn't have to ask what he was talking about. Those two and a half little words that he'd spoken before they'd been crushed seemed to be on both of their minds. He'd originally shrugged it all off as nothing more than just the randomness of a dream, but since he'd discovered that Butters had dreamed the exact same thing, he was beginning to wonder. Did he really say it? Were the two of them actually standing on some kind of astral plane or something? It didn't seem any less ridiculous than any other explanation they could come up with.

"Butters," he said, "I could tell you that I do, but talk is cheap, you know?"

The other boy nodded his understanding.

"All I can say to you is that since you stopped talking to me...things just haven't been the same. I haven't wanted to do anything. I haven't been eating, I haven't been ripping on Kahl; nothing seems interesting. It's like there's a big hole in my life that you filled up, and after you were gone, all those things I used to use to try and fill it didn't seem that great anymore."

Butters was speechless. That was the most genuine and touching thing anyone had ever said to him.

"You want to know if I love you, Butters?" Cartman continued. "I've never told anyone that I loved them before. God knows, I don't think I ever _have_ actually loved anyone before. When you and I...when we almost...when we..."

"When we almost kissed," Butters said.

"Yeah," Cartman agreed. "When that happened, it woke something up in me. It started changing me. When you left, the rest of the change came. I realized how much damage I'd been doing to the people who cared most about ME, and it made me hate myself. I don't want to manipulate or hurt people anymore. I want to...be with you."

Butters sat and looked at him for several minutes after this. He simply couldn't think of a single word to say in response to any of it. Finally, he rose to his feet, looked at Cartman, and said the one thing he could think of:

"I've gotta go home."

He turned and walked away before anything else could be said. Cartman watched him go, mouth hanging open in shock, until he was out of sight. Even after that, he still didn't move. He continued to sit there until the stars disappeared and the sun began to rise. He continued to sit there as the air warmed up and random kids from around town began to show up to play on the equipment with their friends. He simply could not bring himself to get up.

_What the hell just happened?_


	8. Lights Out

**A Note From Ben:** **Well, this is it. This is the end of this story, and I feel much better having it done. It's taken far longer than it should have, and it isn't exactly one of my favorites (in fact, when I look back at the earlier chapters, I actually cringe). Still, I have always been determined that at some point, there _would _be a resolution to all of this, not only because it's a poor practice to start a story and not finish it, but because all of you have shown such love for it and I couldn't leave you hanging like that. That would have eaten at me for the rest of my life.**

**So I hope you enjoy this one last chapter. It may not be the ending I envisioned, or the one that some of you were told was coming, but I have to say I'm rather happy with the turnout.**

**Chapter Eight – Lights Out**

It was all over the school: Butters Stotch was going to throw the biggest party the town had ever seen. His parents were normally so controlling, monitoring every aspect his life and grounding him for reasons nobody understood, that he'd never really been able to have a big birthday party before. This year, however, they were allowing it on the condition that they never ask anything of them ever again for the rest of eternity. The plans had apparently started out very small, with only a few people invited, and had grown bit by bit until it rivaled even Eric Cartman's parties.

Cartman, meanwhile, was not handling his lack of invitation with much grace. He thought maybe Butters had forgiven him after their talk on the swing, and it had certainly seemed that way in the days following. They hadn't had any more conversations, but Butters had returned a few of his smiles when they passed each other in the hallways and had even said hello once or twice. What the hell kind of game was he playing? Were they cool or not, and if not, why the hell had he been leading Cartman along, making him think otherwise?

He thought about confronting Butters about it, but the new, more rational side of him kicked in and warned him that doing so would probably do more damage than good. That voice had been chirping in his ear more and more lately, telling him that Butters needed space, that he should just take it slow, that things would work out if it was meant to be. He wasn't sure he liked this new voice. It not only made him less intimidating and dangerous, something that had done some serious damage to his reputation, but it kept popping up even when he didn't want it to.

_Your reputation wasn't that great anyway, _it told him as he walked down the hallway toward the playground, musing over these things. _You were feared and despised by everyone, especially gingers and minorities. Now people are looking at you like a human being and you have a problem with that?_

_It made my life a lot easier when people were afraid of me, _Cartman replied. _I could get anything I wanted._

_Except for Butters._

He could think of no response for that. It was true that since he'd turned over a new leaf, people like Kyle were being a little bit nicer to him. He didn't realize that it could feel so good to be liked by someone he always thought was beneath him. Whenever Kyle smiled at him and told him it was good to see he was at least making an effort, he felt...happy inside. He didn't know a lot about warm fuzzies, seeing as he'd never really experienced them, but he thought he was at least beginning to understand what people meant when they talked about it.

"Hey, Cartman," Kyle said, coming up beside him as he made his way through the double doors and out onto the playground. There were still piles of melting snow from last week's storm laying in random places across the grounds. Most of the powder had been crushed into the dirt, turning it into muddy slush, leaving only those mounds as a reminder. To Cartman, they looked like the graves of snowmen.

"Hey, Kahl," he replied, barely glancing over at him. "Did you do that report on Pablo Naruda that Garrison asked us for?"

"No, I'm supposed to meet with Stan later today and work on it," Kyle responded. "Cartman, have you talked with Butters lately?"

"No," Cartman said. "I don't see any point in it."

"Don't see any point in it?" Kyle asked, incredulous. He stopped dead in his tracks and Cartman was forced to stop as well, turning with an agitated sigh.

"I don't see a point in it," he repeated, letting his lack of enthusiasm for this topic of conversation show in his voice. "He didn't send me an invitation to his stupid party. That means he doesn't want to be around me and that means there's no point in going over and _bothering him._"

Kyle scowled at him, which was something that Cartman hadn't seen in a couple of weeks. He'd almost forgotten what Kyle's I'M-SO-PISSED-I-COULD-HIT-YOU face looked like.

"He didn't invite you because his parents wouldn't let him," Kyle said. "They don't want you there since they found out about that photo. They think you're some kind of twisted pervert. It isn't because he doesn't want you there."

Cartman felt tensed up at the very mention of that photo. It was the reason that they'd had all of these damn problems. If he had never taken the fucking thing, he and Butters would probably be a lot farther along by now. He didn't know how he really felt about being gay or any of that sexual discovery shit. He really felt he needed more time before he'd be comfortable even _thinking _about it. He only knew that Butters made him happy in ways nobody else could, and if that meant that he would eventually have to ask himself about his sexuality, well he'd deal with it when the time came.

He looked across the playground, where Butters was playing some kind of weird game with Dougie and Kenny. He found himself wishing he could _be _Dougie, if only because he was so damn close to Butters. He was like the kid's right hand man, his most trusted playmate. Dougie had access that nobody else in the world had, and Cartman found he was more than a little jealous of him for it.

"You know who Butters invited from out of town for his birthday party, don't you?" Kyle said, following his gaze with a smirk.

"Who?"

"Bradley," Kyle said, folding his arms.

Even though he'd never met Bradley personally, Cartman knew who he was from the stories he'd been told. He'd been Butters' bi-curious roommate at Camp New Grace and had admitted to having a crush on him. Butters hadn't picked up on what he meant until later on and had never actually told anybody how he felt in return. Did he _really _like-like Bradley? Were they just friends? Did it even matter?

_It matters to me, damn it, _he thought, grinding his teeth. _I have to do something. I can't let Bradley ruin my chances._

"Go get him, Cartman," Kyle told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Tell him how you feel."

Cartman knew Kyle was right. He _should _tell Butters the truth before time ran out. He gathered up his courage and started across the playground, determined that it was either sink or swim. This game had gone on long enough for both of them, and it was time to end it once and for all.

_I'll just walk up to him and tell him 'Butters, we need to talk'. No, no; that's too direct. I need to be gentle about it. Maybe 'Hey, Butters. What's up? Nice shirt. Think we can talk for a minute?' Fuck, that sounds too soft. Then again, I can't just blurt out 'Butters, I love you' in front of Kenny and Dougie.._

"Eric!" Butters said, shocking him out of his thoughts. He'd apparently been standing there for several seconds, just staring at him and trying to think of what to say. "You okay, Eric?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I was, just, uh...wondering..."

Kenny nudged Dougie and they wandered off toward another corner of the playground.

"Wonderin' what?" Butters asked.

"If, uh," Cartman stuttered, "if you wanted to come over after school today?"

He kicked himself. After all of that debating, after psyching himself up for this big finish, and after all of his oaths that the drama was going to come to an end one way or the other, that's the best he could come up with. He felt disgusted with his own cowardice. When did he turn to such a jellyfish? He used to be able to say whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, consequences be damned.

"I'd sure like to, Eric," Butters said with a small grin, "but I gotta get home and help my parents finish setting up for the party."

"Oh."

Butters must have sensed his discomfort because his grin disappeared and he shuffled nervously.

"I would have invited you if my parents would have let me, you know," he said.

"Yeah," Cartman said. He felt as though he wanted to say something. It felt like a large geyser deep inside him, wanting to burst forth and spew all of his most intimate feelings. He wanted to tell Butters over and over again that when his heart beat, it cried his very name. He wanted to ask why the hell Bradley was being invited, and why they couldn't do something together after the party. He wanted to grab him and kiss him and never let him go....

Of course, he did none of those things. For some reason, even when he reached down deep inside to find the courage to open the valve and let it all come gushing out, he found he couldn't do it. In the end, he simply choked and stuttered, then shook his head and walked away. He heard Butters shout an apology, though it was wasted on him. He was lost in his own thoughts, wondering what the hell he was going to do, or if there was anything at all he _could _do.

He didn't stop walking when he heard Butters call for him again, nor when Kyle tried to summon him. He didn't stop walking when he reached the back door of the school. He kept right on going until he reached the boys' bathroom, where he sat down on the back of one of the toilets and put his head in his hands in shame.

_I'm fucking doomed, _he thought. _There's no hope at all...

* * *

_

A week later saw Butters at the bus stop, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the coach carrying Bradley, which was forty-five minutes late. He wasn't really surprised, though; he'd heard nothing but rotten things about Greyhound all his life. His father often complained that a Greyhound bus would show up two hours late for the end of the world, and that was with a generous head start.

He checked his watch, wondering not for the first time whether he'd misunderstood Bradley and come on the wrong day. He couldn't have, of course, because they'd been talking about the visit pretty much nonstop in their letters for well over a month. He had the details of the trip memorized, right down to the things they were gonna do while he was there. He could even remember that they wanted to go get double cheeseburgers from McDonald's at some point, seeing as they both enjoyed them so much, and that Bradley was going to get his without pickles.

_He hates pickles, _he thought. _If I can remember that, why would I get the date or the time wrong? No, it's the bus. It's _got _to be._

Meanwhile, Eric Cartman had been watching him from a distance all day and he found it a little unnerving. The guy tried to look inconspicuous, like it was all just a big coincidence how they kept "bumping into each other", but he knew what it was. Cartman was scoping him out, watching for something. That was _old _Eric behavior, the kind of stuff that Butters had thought was gone for good.

_Why does he keep watching me like this?_

He turned his attention away, trying to ignore him. He was standing across the street, dressed up in an old timey detective outfit, right down to the goofy fedora. He was making an effort to watch him while trying to stay concealed behind a badly outdated newspaper. That was really hard to just shrug off. He might as well have been dressed up like a clown, juggling flaming swords.

A loud honk from down the road and the smell of diesel fuel filled the air. Butters looked toward the source of this along with the small entourage of party guests he'd brought with him. They could see the bus chugging toward them, rocking gently as it came. They gave a cheer and a few of them high-fived each other.

"Finally," Butters said, rubbing his hands together nervously. He hadn't seen his pen pal in quite some time and he'd been anticipating this for quite some time. When Bradley stepped off the bus, Butters gave a squeal of delight and pounced on him. He threw his arms around him with such force that they both almost went toppling backwards onto the bus steps.

"Easy, Butters!" Bradley laughed. "Take it easy!"

Butters began to gush about how much fun they were going to have and how much he'd been looking forward to it. He made sure to introduce each of his friends at least three times, something which made Bradley laugh with delight. He honestly didn't mind someone being that glad to see him.

"Wow, it's gonna be so great," Butters said as they walked off. He could see Cartman fold up the newspaper and fall in line a good distance behind them, but he shrugged it off. Butters figured if he had something he wanted to say, he could step forward and do it. He wasn't going to stress himself out over someone who followed him around like a lost puppy. "We're gonna do everything we ever said we would. I even remembered the pickles thing, can you believe that...?"

* * *

Eric Cartman stood across from the Stotch house, hating every beat of the music and every delighted squeal of the kids on the Ferris Wheel. Each one was like nails on a chalkboard to him, driving him more and more insane. He felt his eye begin to switch and he reached up in the moonlight and put a hand over it, trying to get himself under control. He didn't need to fall apart, not now that he was so close. If he flipped out and did something rash, Butters would never speak to him again.

"Butters," he hissed under his breath.

He wanted to go in and get the boy's attention somehow, and was seriously thinking about risking it. After all, there were so many kids there, would anyone really notice one more? Was he _that _recognizable, that he could be spotted in a crowd that was easily a hundred people large? It filled the house, spilled out into yards, the sidewalk, the street. He could even see kids through the windows in the upstairs bedrooms. God only knew what they were doing up there.

_God, I hope Butters isn't one of them. I hope he's not up there with Bradley._

It was a hard thing to think about. Butters, _his _Butters, in bed with someone else. He could see Butters with his head hanging over the edge of the bed, his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth moving in moans of pleasure. Bradley was on top of him, his sweat dropping down off of his face as he thrashed and grunted....

_"NOOO!"_ Cartman screamed, causing several people across the street to look at him. Craig flipped him off.

Fuck it, he was going for it. The worst he could expect would be getting thrown out of the house. He might still be able to isolate Butters and get his attention before that happened.

* * *

Butters and Bradley were on the Ferris Wheel, laughing and teasing each other. Butters wasn't sure if you could call what they were doing "flirting" or not, but he didn't care. Bradley was a good friend and a lot of fun to be around. If they just happened to flirt with each other in their games, why that was just fine. It just added a little something more to it.

Bradley poked him in the ribs and Butters giggled and tried to scamper away. His sudden movement caused their seat to rock and sway, and he was suddenly very frightened. He jumped on Bradley and threw his arms around him with a squeak. Bradley laughed and told him he needed to relax a little bit more, that the ride was perfectly safe.

"Oh, uh, yeah I guess it is," Butters said, looking around. He let go of Bradley awkwardly and scooted back to his side of the seat. He couldn't help but notice his friend's deep blush as he did so. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, Butters," Bradley said, smiling at him. "I'm having a really great time."

He put his hand on the seat and Butters wasn't surprised that it wound up on top of his own. He flipped it around and they linked fingers.

"I am, too," he said.

They stared at each other affectionately, caught up in the moment.

"Bradley..." Butters said.

He was cut off by the power to the entire party being cut. The music fell silent, the lights went out, and all the rides came to a dead stop. There was a mass outcry from the guests at this, and Butters stuck his head over the side of the car to try and figure out what happened. They were too high up to be able to see anything in the darkness below, and he couldn't help wondering if the terrorists had attacked, like his father always told him they would.

"What happened?" Bradley asked.

"I dunno," Butters replied. "I hope they figure it out, or we could be stuck for awhile."

"I'm cool with that," Bradley said.

"Well, I'm not!" Butters shot back. "I don't like heights."

* * *

Back in the house, Linda and Chris Stotch were in a frenzy. Linda was trying to figure out what had caused the outage while Chris ran around the house like a maniac. He had always warned Butters about terrorist attacks, but he hadn't expected one so soon. He was worried about how he was going to get his son down off of that wheel if they decided to use the Anthrax next.

"Christ!" he said as pot and pants went flying. "Where did I put the damn gun?"

"Forget the damn gun, Chris!" she screamed at him. "Just help me get the lights back on!"

"We have to have the gun in case they decide to try and use our house as a base of operations. I'll have to try and kill as many of them as I can while you and Butters make an escape. I probably won't live through it, but you'll at least be able to go somewhere and hide until the nuclear fallout clears. It shouldn't be more than fifty years."

"Oh, for the love of God!"

* * *

"Butters!"

It was Cartman. Butters looked down from the seat and scanned the ground for him. He couldn't tell where he was, only that he was using a bullhorn.

_He's the son of a bitch responsible for this._

Butters swore that as soon as he got off, he was going to bash his fucking head in.

"Butters, are you up there?"

"He's up there, asshole!" someone screamed. "Now turn the fucking lights on!"

"I'm not talking to _you_," Cartman shot back. "Butters, I know I've been a bad person. I've done horrible things, unforgivable things. I've spent my whole life just doing what I wanted to do, no matter what it cost or how many people it hurt."

Now, _this _was interesting. Butters leaned over to hear him better. Bradley had to grab him to make sure he wouldn't topple over the side.

"I know I don't deserve your friendship, and I certainly don't deserve your heart," Cartman continues, the emotion in his voice palpable even with the bullhorn. "But I can't get you out of my head. Everything I've ever known, everything I've ever believed about what's right and wrong and about what the world _owes _me has been flipped upside-down since you and I started getting closer. I don't want to be that awful person I was anymore. I don't want to be that sociopath that everyone was afraid of."

Butters was speechless. He looked over at Bradley, who looked just as shocked as he was. Cartman's exploits had become infamous all over the state. Kids as far away as Fort Lupton and Pueblo were talking about what a monster the fat kid from South Park was. To hear _the _Eric Cartman saying such beautiful words, clearly transformed into a whole new person, had completely blown his mind.

"I just want _you_, Butters," Cartman said. "_Please!_"

The power came back on and everything began to come back to life. The carousel and Ferris Wheel began to rotate again, the game tents lit up, the music started playing, and all the kids who had been trapped on the rides were able to get off. They were released, one by one, as Linda and Chris came and grabbed Cartman by the arms.

"Lame," he said as they pulled him like a sack of flour toward the exit. He'd been so sure that was going to work. Now he'd be hearing about this little escapade for months at school, if not for years. He'd never be able to live down how he showed up here and made a fool out of himself. Well, no matter. There were more important things than reputation, that much he'd learned.

"Wait!" Butters cried, his seat finally reaching the ground. He ran toward his parents, waving his arms. "Wait a minute!"

"Butters," Cartman said with a smile.

Linda and Chris stopped dragging him across the grass and stood there, arms crossed. They looked pissed, as always, and he was sure Butters was going to hear about this later.

"Did you really mean all that stuff you said?" Butters asked.

"Every word of it," Cartman said.

Butters was quiet for a minute as he stood there, thinking things over. Cartman had really changed; it hadn't been an act after all. He had become a completely different person with a new set of morals and a new way of looking at life. That was an amazing thing, especially when he realized that Cartman had changed for _him_. He'd remodeled every aspect of his personality, just so he could make _him _happy.

_That's so overwhelming. What do you even say to something like that?_

"I, uh..." he stuttered. "Uh..."

He couldn't find the words to say, so he did the only thing he could think of: he threw his arms around Cartman's neck and hugged him tightly.

"Butters," Cartman said, holding him as though his world would collapse the minute he let go, "does this mean...?"

"Yes," Butters whispered into his ear. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

The crowd behind them erupted into thunderous applause, which quickly fell into awed silence as the two of them shared their first kiss right in front of them. Chris and Linda looked at each other, then shrugged and walked back into the house. It wasn't like they hadn't seen it coming.

* * *

In the back of the crowd, the boy that had played such a big role in getting the two of them together slipped quietly away. Kyle was satisfied that all of his efforts had paid off. Even though he'd worked so hard in front of everybody trying to get things to work out for the best and nobody had noticed, that was okay. This wasn't about him; it was about them. They were good for each other.

_Neither of them are the same. They've changed so much since this whole thing started._

Kyle smiled to himself. His meddling had been partly responsible for that, and he was glad. His mother had always taught him to do good things without being obvious about it, and in this he'd been successful. He'd helped to change two lives, and unless someone went back over everything and looked, they'd never figure it out. It would be his secret, something that he could carry with him even to his grave.

"I wish you guys the best," Kyle said, stopping in the street and looking back toward the Stotch house. The music was little more than garbled noise and thumping bass from here, but he could still see the bright lights of the Ferris Wheel. "Sincerely."

Then he was gone.

**_Fin

* * *

_**

_Like a river flows to the sea,_

_so it goes._

_Some things are meant to be._

_Take my hand._

_Take my whole life, too._

_For I can't help falling in love with you._

_-Can't Help Falling In Love_, Elvis Presley


End file.
